Of Patience, Nobility, and Elusive Clothing
by uisceB
Summary: In which the alliance of Morgana and Morgause is re-examined with a bit more attention to dirty detail, and Merlin may or may not be a murderous cross-dresser if Morgana's theories are correct. Starts out innocently enough, but gets smuttier the more you read. (it's a reward system) Morgana/Morgause seasons 2 and 3 Also, reviews are like candy to me, feel free to leave 'em!


I

_I hope you will remember me fondly._

_Hope you will._

_Me. Fondly. Hope you remember._

_You. Me. Hopefully fondly. Remember._

Morgana was about this close to smashing her head against the wall to get the words out of her head. She was already being kept awake most nights by nightmares (Arthur dying this way or that way, old bearded men looking condescendingly down at her while she sat awkwardly amongst a pile of dead knights), now this…lady. Knight. Person.

Lady-knight-person.

Morgana was never going to be able to sleep again.

The lady-knight-person's name was Morgause and she'd arrived the night before dressed to the nine in armor, challenged Arthur to a duel to the death, then took her helmet off to reveal this cascade of gold hair and the fact that she…well, wasn't a man. At all.

Then she'd had the audacity to actually _beat_ Arthur in the duel, then _spare_ him (Morgana remembered back when she and Arthur were children, she used to be able to beat him too…now that he was all strong and war-hero-like, he always beat her…if that had been _Morgana_ in the duel, she'd have probably killed him just for the satisfaction of the good old days).

But she'd spared him. Morgause had _spared_ him, made him agree to some sort of mysterious deal that was going to kill Morgana for not knowing, she just knew it.

And the others…well, Uther hated Morgause on principle and iced her out as if she hadn't just had his only son's life dangling at the tip of her sword. Merlin seemed uncharacteristically standoffish toward her and was skulking in the shadows, a thing he'd been doing more and more lately. Gaius's eyebrow was raised almost up to his hairline when he looked at the lady-knight, but what else was new. And Arthur had had his baby pride stepped all over so he was a scowling mess all day and seemed to have taken on the sudden belief that all women were inherently evil, including poor Gwen who really never did anything wrong.

As for Morgana…Morgana had really done them all one better (one worse?) by finding Morgause's arrogant and frustratingly effective intrusion so intolerable that she had decided to take it upon herself to march right up to Morgause's chambers and give her absolute _hell_ for being an insufferable bitch.

An insufferable bitch with a great hair and a good hand with a sword. Not that those were things to be proud of. Really, though, whatever happened to good-old-fashioned modesty?

Naturally Morgana armed herself for the confrontation in her tightest-fitting white gown- the one she'd been wearing at all the knighting ceremonies, just to see Arthur get all worked up when he realized none of the new recruits were listening to his "inspirational speeches" but were instead trying to get a good look down the front of his father's Ward's dress.

Not that that was her goal with Morgause, obviously. She was just trying to demonstrate what a Lady _should_ look like to a clearly rebellious and uncouth ruffian.

Satisfied with the stately way her long dark hair had been pulled back, and of course, the condition of the white dress, Morgana strode in what she could only imagine were magnificently purposeful steps toward Morgause's chambers. She halted just outside the door to pat down her hair - not a strand out of place.

Then she knocked.

Then realized that was far too polite given how angry she was. So she went ahead and opened the door _without waiting for an answer_ and walked inside.

"You are a disgrace to both all that is womanly and all that is knightly in this world and you should be ashamed of yourself for so feebly attempting to play at either role," she proclaimed in ringing tones much to the surprise of the blonde lady-knight inside.

Except that's not at all what had happened. Not even at all. She never got a chance to say anything.

Morgause was inside, packing her things, wearing nothing but breeches and a flimsy white tunic that was untied at the top, revealing a spectacular amount of flesh. She looked up at Morgana's sudden appearance, pausing, but somehow not looking all that surprised.

Every word Morgana had so carefully thought out died in her throat and the two stood staring at each other in silence for a moment.

Realizing Morgause was patiently awaiting an explanation, Morgana attempted one, and utterly failed, as all that came out was a murmured, "I didn't mean to intrude. I'm…" (Her name, what the hell was her name?) "…the Lady Morgana."

And all of a sudden the two of them were talking. Words. To each other. Morgana hadn't the faintest memory of actually _what_ they had talked about, nothing important, something about unhealthy sleep patterns and how Arthur had almost sliced Morgause's arm off. It didn't matter really.

What _did_ matter was how Morgause came in really close as she spoke to Morgana-never intrusively, just…close. And her voice was soft and surprisingly warm. And she actually _listened_ to Morgana. There was none of Uther or Arthur's waving off her concerns, or Merlin's broody angst, or Gwen's fidgety awkwardness, or Gaius trying to shove a sleeping draft down her throat. There was just Morgause's eyes and her genuine concern for Morgana's sleeping problems, despite the fact that _Morgause_ was the one who had just nearly _died_ in a duel to the death.

And then there was the whole bracelet thing. Morgana had just been stalling, because she couldn't think of anything of any actual _substance_ to say, but she found she really didn't want to leave Morgause's room, so she had grabbed at the first idea that came to her and complimented the blonde woman's bracelet. And Morgause…what on Earth…Morgause had taken the bracelet off (a bracelet which she claimed had belonged to her mother) and _offered_ it to Morgana.

It wasn't an empty offer, either. In fact, Morgause's self-confident little swagger had completely disappeared as she held out the bracelet. The blonde actually looked a little terrified, like it might kill her if Morgana said no.

And Morgana hadn't _wanted_ to say no, but that's what came out, wasn't it, because it wasn't good manners for a Lady to just accept gifts from charming strangers. And realizing she had probably just hurt Morgause, and also realizing she was in very serious danger of never leaving the blonde's chambers for the rest of her life, Morgana had practically fled to the door of the chambers without so much as a proper goodbye.

If only Morgause could have just left it there. If only she could have just _accepted_ Morgana's rejection, like any of the other knights…but no, the blonde woman stepped forward and said softly before Morgana could leave, "I hope you will remember me fondly."

Alright. Why not just throw a net around Morgana and chain her to the bedposts? Why not just stab her in the chest and cut her heart right out?

Morgana turned, completely against her will, to look back at the blonde, who still held the bracelet outstretched in her hand. And the brunette nodded.

And nodded.

Actually, she found she was sort of paralyzed here, just an inch from the closed door, unable to leave, unable to accept the bracelet, unable to do anything.

But Morgause…Morgause stepped forward very softly, lowering the bracelet so it was no longer in sight, and pressed in so she was barely a breath away from Morgana. Their bodies didn't touch, not even a little, but there was less than a sliver of air between them and Morgana's heart began pounding heavily against her ribcage. Morgause was going to kiss her, she knew it, and she so deeply wanted that, and her lips parted and she was a little off-balance so she fell back the last half-inch of space so that her back was pressed up against the door.

And Morgause was reaching her hand forward, low, at Morgana's waist-line…

And she was turning the doorknob.

Morgana looked down at the doorknob, half in confusion, half in accusation, as though it had turned of its own accord and was trying to ruin the most wonderfully terrifying experience of the brunette's life. She looked back up at Morgause, brow knit.

"My Lady," Morgause said, with a very slight bow of the head.

There was no misunderstanding the dismissal. Morgana was used to such dismissals from Uther, from Arthur even- but never had a knight dared to do such a thing.

Clenching her jaw indignantly, Morgana shifted so Morgause could open the door, and hold it open for her to walk through.

Morgana fixed the older woman with a glare and strode out haughtily, head held high as if she hadn't just nearly launched herself at Morgause's mouth in the hopes of being torn apart.

And now, hours later, she was tossing and turning in her bed because she couldn't for the life of her get those wretchedly perfect words out of her head. _I hope you remember me fondly. I hope you fucking well remember me fondly._

But she must have fallen asleep at some point because she woke to Gwen shaking her, apparently fearful she had _died_ in her sleep or something (Gwen really needed to relax, Morgana thought, maybe she should give her some time off, or just get her really drunk one of these nights).

"I'm _fine_ Gwen!" Morgana had snapped after having been shaken quite sufficiently, thank you. "I was just…" She paused, realization dawning on her. "I was sleeping."

She hadn't slept- not _really_ slept- in months. Maybe years, it was getting difficult to remember. Not since the nightmares. Not since she'd…well…not since she'd woken up several times to find that she had set fire to her chambers with her mind, or exploded a really nice vase just by looking at it. These were things one could be executed for, not things which typically lulled one to sleep.

"It's nearly midday," Gwen informed her, then fixed her with a look that was of strangely proud suspicion, if such a thing existed. "I'll go get you some clothes."

Well, yes she'd better. Morgana didn't care at all for that look. Like Morgana was _guilty_ of something. What on Earth did Morgana have to be _guilty_ about?

Oh.

At the foot of Morgana's bed there was a trunk. That wasn't strange, there was always a trunk there. What was strange was what was on the trunk.

It was the bracelet. It was _Morgause's_ bracelet.

Morgana reached forward and took it in her hand, looking over it carefully. It was silver and gold, and cuff-like, heavier than what she'd normally wear. But it was beautiful.

And it was Morgause's.

And Morgause had left it for her. In her room. At the foot of her bed. In the middle of the night.

Normally the idea would have been unsettling (she had a brief, unwelcome image of Gaius standing at the foot of her bed, leering at her in the middle of the night), but the idea that Morgause had been there, it was…well, comforting was definitely not the word for it. But something…something else. Something a little thrillingly possessive that should have made her panic, but instead made her feel much too warm under the bedcovers.

Something that made her feel like she wanted Morgause in her mouth.

Well. Now that was a weird thought.

That was a very very weird thought. And Morgana wasn't even really sure what she meant by it. Or where or what she was thinking. Or how that even…

Everything, she supposed, allowing herself the fantasy for a moment. Yes, she guessed it meant something along the lines of wanting her mouth on every single inch of flesh Morgause possessed.

Which was when Gwen swept in, bearing a change of clothes for her, and Morgana shook herself violently to make the fantasy go away. It didn't matter anyway. She would never see Morgause again, that was clear.

She slipped the bracelet on over her wrist though. And heaven help the imbecile who tried to take it from her. If she could help it, she'd never take it off.

II

The months passed, slowly at first, and then picking up that one day little Mordred had showed up in her life again, begging for help, and Uther had condemned the druid man Morgana had ashamedly fallen for to death.

She'd helped the druid escape-Alvarr. The thing was, ever since Morgause's departure, Morgana couldn't help but try to imitate her, or what she thought the older woman might have done in her situation. Of course, Morgana had always been defiant of Uther, but she'd never gone against him so _blatantly_, raging at him, disowning him, and finally setting the druid man free.

Uther had threatened death to whoever he found responsible for the druid's flight. And he'd looked directly at her, like he knew.

Fine, if that's how it was going to be. There was a fire in Morgana now and she couldn't help but feel that it came from this ridiculous little hope that maybe, somehow, Morgause was watching her, and might be proud of her. It was such a stupid, self-centered idea to think that anyone would be monitoring her so carefully, but Morgana found she liked the idea. It was her own little childish fantasy, made her feel important if nothing else- it didn't matter so long as no one else knew.

But she was startled one morning to find her window cracked open, a cold breeze winding its way into her room. Moving to clamp the window shut, she found a tiny, ornate jewelry box sitting on the sill. Not hers. Presumably not Gwen's, Gwen typically didn't wear jewelry on account of her not having…well, _money_. Who else? Were there even any other women in Camelot? Not that she could think of, to be honest. Maybe it was Merlin's. Somehow, Morgana could easily picture Merlin in women's clothing.

She smirked at the thought.

But the smirk was soon gone as she opened the jewelry box to find a tiny rolled-up piece of parchment inside. Unrolling it carefully, she found it addressed quite clearly to herself.

And quite clearly by someone with rather blatant disregard for propriety.

The first line of the letter, and she already knew who it was from: _My dearest Morgana_, it read, and Morgana felt jolts shoot through her into the pit of her stomach. _My dearest Morgana._

_Dearest._ Morgana tried really hard to read the rest of it, it's just that her eyes kept snapping back to the beginning of that one line and reading it over and over. _Dearest Morgana. My. _She really liked that "my" part. Also the "dearest." And her name, too, that was nice.

It was from Morgause, obviously, the blonde's name was signed at the bottom, just in case there was any doubt. It was a request to meet her in the woods that night.

Well obviously. It's not like Morgause was exactly _welcome back_, after having nearly succeeded in tricking Arthur into killing Uther after having beaten him in the duel.

Well, the woods. Honestly, Morgana was becoming more comfortable with the woods lately, having spent a great deal of time riding around in them, nearly getting kidnapped in them that one time with Gwen, cavorting with friendly druid people in them who seemed to think her ability to set things on fire and explode them and see into the future was sort of like a thing to be happy about instead of terrified of.

Why yes she _would_ go to the woods tonight. And really, if Morgause was there, it didn't feel like there was anything to be afraid of at all.

Now what to wear.

She had worn the white dress last time she saw Morgause, so that was a no. Something green this time, green really did something spectacular to her eyes.

Of course, it would be dark. And she'd be wearing a cloak over it, so it wouldn't matter anyway, unless the cloak happened to unexpectedly come _off._

Would it be considered inappropriate if she wore _nothing_ under the cloak?

Morgana shook herself. Of _course_ that would be inappropriate. What on Earth, Morgana.

So green it was.

III

There were exactly two things Morgana was currently aware of: one, she had just spoken outright treason, and two, Morgause was holding both her hands very tightly in her own. Well, also, they were in the woods and there was this faint slithering sound on the ground that was making her nervous.

(But really not that nervous because Morgause's hands were on hers, and true, she'd rather they were other places, but this was a good start, this was a very very good start.)

But back to the whole "speaking outright treason" bit. It's not that she'd meant to, it's just that Morgause was…well, her voice was so soothing, and her entire way of being was just so…something, so _easy_, that Morgana found it really just sort of slipped out that yes, in fact, she would like nothing more than to see Uther Pendragon's head on a spike.

Morgana wondered faintly if that slithering sound might somehow be Morgause winding herself around her, all dark-eyed and silver-tongued. Truth be told, there was something a little snake-like about the blonde, something very softly dangerous - honeyed and completely intoxicating.

Morgana tried to bite back the treasonous words the moment she said them, except that they made Morgause smile with what Morgana could only describe as very genuine relief. It was like the bracelet thing all over again, like Morgause would have been truly devastated if Morgana had refused her.

Only this time, Morgana had answered correctly.

"I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that," Morgause breathed, striding forward.

Morgana barely had time to register the fact that the blonde's hand was suddenly cupping her jaw, her fingers coaxing through her hair, when a sudden heavy warmth seemed to wrap around her entire being, starting at where Morgause's palm touched her face.

So heavy was the warmth, in fact, that Morgana found she was struggling to keep her eyes open. On the one hand, she wanted nothing more than to have more of Morgause touching her. But on the other hand, what she really _really_ _needed_ at the moment, unexpectedly and quite inconveniently, was just to go to sleep. Right now.

She struggled as much as she could manage, vaguely coming to the conclusion that Morgause had just enchanted her and that really, this whole Morgause-almost-kissing-her-only-to-pull-some-crazy-and-sort-of-rude-shit-on-her thing was bordering on infuriating.

Then her eyes fluttered closed and she pitched downward, barely aware that Morgause caught her weight as she fell and guided her gently to the ground. She was out cold, and not even able to enjoy the fact that she was finally being cradled in the blonde woman's arms.

IV

"So...This is your jack-in-the-box."

"In so many words."

"Your grand plan to overthrowing Uther Pendragon."

"She's the key to his undoing, I'm certain of it."

"I mean, she's sweet-looking, I'll give you that, definitely fuckable…"

"Darling Cenred, you and I go back several years, but please understand, if you ever talk about Morgana like that again, I will cut you open and then strangle you with your own intestines."

Morgana couldn't quite find the strength yet to open her eyes, but this very strange conversation was apparently serving as her wake-up call. It was highly unpleasant, despite the fact that one of the voices was Morgause's, and it was made worse by the fact that Morgana felt as though her entire body was made of lead. Her entire body, except her mouth, throat and stomach, that is. Those were apparently made of fire. And something sharp and thick.

She had a vague memory of Merlin and a canteen full of water. Merlin was sweaty and pale and very sad.

The entire image was doing nothing to soothe her, so she pushed it away and instead tried very hard to focus on getting her eyelids to _open_.

Well, go on, then. _Open._

"Did you see that?" It was Morgause again.

"What?" The other voice. Darling Cenred. Morgana took a wild guess that he was very ugly and had bad teeth.

"Her eyes-it looked like they opened for a minute."

"Well praise the little woodland sprite beasts. I'm sure Camelot will be ours by sundown."

"You're not funny, Cenred. You're really just very irritating."

"You're putting all your faith in an anemic-looking spoiled brat, I'm failing to see how this is even _remotely_ a good investment on my part…"

"The anemic-looking spoiled brat is my sister and so help me Cenred, if you say one more word against her I will chop off your penis and force you to eat it."

"…You couldn't do that."

"I'm a fucking High Priestess of the Old bloody Religion, it's what I was born to do." A sigh. "Why don't you go home, Cenred, I'll send word to you when she's ready to play her part. Until then, I really have no use for you."

"I could think of a couple uses…"

"I was not joking about your penis, Cenred, it remains securely in your pants or else it gets removed. Now get out."

All in all, Morgana decided she much preferred Gwen's methods of waking her up.

V

It felt like maybe a few days later that Morgana was actually finally able to open her eyes.

The first thing she was immediately grateful for was that she seemed to be in an actual room in an actual castle made of actual stone. The second thing she was immediately grateful for was that she seemed to also be in an actual bed wrapped securely in actual furs. There was also actual sunlight streaming through actual windows. It was faint sunlight, a little cold, but it was light, and she could see, and God, she was actually _alive._

She was also alone and perhaps because of this, her mind felt this was a perfect time to launch a full-scale attack on her with the memories she'd been trying to hide from ever since first waking to the sound of Morgause and Cenred's voices.

Merlin had killed her. Well, failed, obviously, she was still here. But he had tried, poisoned the water, and given it to her. And then he'd looked directly into her eyes while she tried desperately to drag fragments of air into her lungs as the poisoned water ripped through her, tearing her insides open.

And now she was here.

He'd known. Somehow, Merlin had known that it was because of her that men and women all over Camelot were collapsing in a sickened, enchanted sleep-the one Morgause had used her to channel.

And then he'd killed her. He'd chosen _Uther_ over _her. _After _everything_ that had happened, he'd chosen to save a murderous, self-serving king over his own friend.

Morgana was going to be sick. She was going to be sick everywhere. This was no good, this was absolutely no good, where was everybody, and why did everything _hurt_ so much…?

She vomited rather violently over the side of the bed, thankful no one was around to see. Or hear. It was pretty disgusting, and definitely not a flattering look for her. She'd always been pale, but this was sort of ridiculous, and the contents that were now spilling forth from her mouth to the floor were a most alarming shade of blackish green.

There was a clattering sound behind her as someone entered the room, and dropped whatever they were carrying at the sight of her.

"Morgana!"

It sounded like Morgause, she wanted it to be Morgause, at the same time, maybe she really didn't, maybe she was the reason this was all happening…

The bed sank beneath her as whoever it was lunged onto it, grabbing her by the shoulders and rolling her over to cradle her firmly, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face as she gasped in the aftermath of the sickness.

Morgana's eyes fluttered upwards: it _was_ Morgause, eyes huge with worry, hands running over Morgana's face and throat, trying to soothe her, calm her breathing.

"Darling," the blonde was saying, "darling, you're alright, I'm here, I won't leave you again, I promise I won't ever leave you again."

It was really all just a little too much for Morgana this morning. So her brain did the kind thing and shut itself off once again, throwing her into a confused but blessedly painless unconsciousness.

VI

She woke that night to find she was not alone. Morgause lay beside her, sound asleep in her clothes on the outside of the fur covers, arm draped protectively across Morgana's waist, breath soft against Morgana's neck.

Morgana twisted to look at her; the blonde looked exhausted. Had she slept at all since Morgana had been poisoned? It must have been her, after all, who'd saved her, who'd brought her here. And had she stayed like this every night, wrapped around Morgana like a blanket, ready to fight off even the slightest of threats?

Morgana had a sudden image of Morgause gallantly defending her against the onslaught of a tiny fruit fly while she slept, and couldn't honestly be sure whether that was her imagination, or an actual memory. Somehow she really could see Morgause attempting to murder a small insect for trying to land on the sleeping Morgana's nose. Or maybe Morgana was just being stupid.

Either way. Morgana snuggled in closer to Morgause.

And then became aware that she was naked under her fur blankets.

Had that…had she been that way this whole time? Probably. Just hadn't noticed. Well when the hell did she lose her clothes? Did Merlin…did that idiot Merlin try to kill her _ and _steal her clothing? Was that what this had all been about? This was really the last time Morgana was ever going to go to sleep, honestly- seems far too much happened that she was unaware of when she wasn't awake.

On the other hand, maybe it was Morgause who had taken the liberty of ridding her of her clothes. That was fine. That she could certainly be alright with.

VII

Here's what was not alright. It was a week now that Morgana had been considered "fully conscious" and Morgause, rather than now sleeping _under the covers _with Morgana _where she belonged,_ was now sleeping curled in a chair by the door. _Not with Morgana_.

She was also insisting that Morgana remain bed-bound for at least another couple of days until she regained her strength. She'd allowed Morgana a dip into a tub of warm water with some things that smelled sort of amazing, but she'd kept her back turned the whole time and hadn't even _glanced_ at her when Morgana stood up from the bath, clean, glistening, and fucking dripping.

If Morgana had seen Morgana like that, Morgana would have wrestled Morgana to the ground and taken full advantage of Morgana.

Apparently Morgause was _not_ Morgana, because she kept her eyes averted, wrapped her in more furs, then placed her back in bed and left to go…sharpen swords or something stupid.

What on Earth.

This was not the first incident of its kind, either.

Morgana was still noticeably without clothing of any kind, a fact which, at first, had been annoying - she was accustomed to gowns and jewelry, and just _things_ on her all the time.

Then she started getting ideas.

During the night, she would loose one of her legs from under the covers and hook it teasingly over the edge of the blanket. To her absolute dismay, in the morning, rather than ripping the rest of the furs from her body, Morgause had gently covered her back up, and gone off to do…sorceress-y things.

Morgana had sulked nearly all day about it, then decided, well maybe Morgause just wasn't a leg person. Not all people liked legs, after all, even ones as fabulous as hers. So that night she let the furs fall down past her shoulders, revealing just enough of the neck-collarbone-cleavage area exposed to theoretically leave even the chaste-ist of the chaste salivating for more.

But Morgause had simply opened the windows, apparently deciding the reason for the magical falling-down fur covers was that Morgana had gotten too warm during the night. Then she'd hopped off to…polish armor…chainmail…metal stuff.

Morgana was beside herself. If Morgause entered the room, she would pretend to be asleep, sprawling this way or that, feigning fitful slumber, moaning, breathing heavily, chest heaving, even going so far as to breathe out Morgause's _name_ in a pretend sleep-haze- all the things that, had their positions been reversed, would have driven Morgana absolutely crazy with desire.

But Morgause would just cover her back up, or open a window, or smooth back her hair, and then curl up in the chair by the door like a good guard dog, and go to sleep.

This was fucking insane.

And it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Morgause could switch back and forth with seemingly no effort from being this powerful sorceress type, to slinky seductress, to being downright, infuriatingly, abstinently _noble_.

What the hell was there to be _noble_ about anyway? _She _was the one who'd practically _abducted_ Morgana in the first place. _She_ was the one who'd tricked Morgana into confessing her violent intentions toward Uther. _She_ was the one who'd backed Morgana against a door, and come into her chambers during the night to drop off farewell presents, _or maybe just to watch Morgana in a helpless state of being…_

Morgana needed a drink.

If it was one thing she missed about Camelot (and really, there wasn't much), it was the seemingly endless stores of alcohol kept beneath the castle's lower levels. And in all the servant's quarters. And in Gaius's chambers. And under Morgana's bed.

God, Morgana would kill for some of the stuff under her bed. Except that Merlin had probably poisoned that too. Probably poisoned everything. And stole all her dresses. Merlin ruined all things, Merlin…Merlin needed to go.

_And where the hell was Morgause, Morgana could really only be left to her own devices for so long before she started becoming destructive…_

And speaking of which, that was exactly the moment when every window in the room shattered, due to a painfully overwhelming build-up of frustration on Morgana's part. Every window. Every last one. Exploded.

Morgana heard footsteps rushing from the hall and suddenly, there was Morgause, out of breath and wild-eyed, sword drawn.

"What happened, are you alright?" the blonde asked, glancing around the room breathlessly.

Well this was embarrassing. Morgana crossed her arms over her chest (still naked, by the way, would it really be that difficult for Morgause to conjure up something for her to wear, or even, you know…just _buy something?_) "Everything's fine, Morgause, thanks for checking in."

"…The windows are all broken."

Morgana looked at them in what she hoped looked like surprise. "Are they?"

Morgause lay the sword down and crossed over to the windows, assessing the damage. She shot a look at Morgana.

"Did you do this?"

"Yes," Morgana mumbled. She shifted under Morgause's gaze. "Well don't go getting mad at me, _you're_ the one who just left me in here with nothing to do," she snapped.

Morgause looked startled. "Morgana…"

But Morgana wasn't finished, struggling to sit up, this time letting the covers fall from her because they were in the way, rather than any clumsy attempts at seduction.

"I mean, thank you very much for saving my life and everything," she went on, "I really appreciate it, but I'm fine now, and I'm not actually _that_ delicate, I used to be able to beat Arthur with a sword _too_ you know, you're not the only one, and I think this bed is trying to swallow me, and you're an idiot, you really are, so will you please go get me some clothes or fuck me or _something_ before I burn the whole castle down?"

Morgause regarded her carefully for a moment. "You're accent gets really strong when you're angry," she observed.

"Morgause, I just told you I wanted you to fuck me!" Morgana exclaimed, exasperated, and the mirror in the corner of the room shattered. "…Shit."

"Morgana…" Morgause swept forward, sitting herself on the edge of the younger woman's bed, taking her face in her hands. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to imprison you here, I just...needed to make sure nothing happened to you."

Morgana closed her hand over Morgause's, holding it against her cheek so the blonde wouldn't be able to remove it. "You keep ignoring what I'm saying," she laughed lowly, and turned her head slightly to press her lips to Morgause's palm.

The blonde stiffened, trying to pull away. "Morgana, stop…"

"Stop _what_?" Morgana cried in annoyance, taking Morgause's hand off her face roughly. "You've kept me here - _naked_ - in your bed, for almost two weeks, but you won't even _look_ at me! I'm fine, I think we've established I'm no longer in any mortal peril, but you still won't let me go anywhere…what the hell do you _want_?"

"I'm trying to keep you safe, I'm trying to take care of you-!"

This was ridiculous. Morgana grabbed the blonde's hand and pulled it up hard against her, between her legs. "Then fucking well take care of me," she ordered, using her other hand to pull Morgause into a rough kiss, harder, really, than she'd meant.

Morgause seemed to give in for a moment, pressing into the younger woman, her mouth opening against Morgana's, tongue flicking out to taste her…but as soon as she'd done so, she pulled back, holding Morgana by the wrists to keep her from trying anything again.

"_What_?" Morgana snapped, out of breath, and too close to getting what she wanted to be at all reasonable.

"Morgana, we can't do this," Morgause breathed. Her arm flinched like she was about to reach forward to tuck a strand of hair behind Morgana's ear, but she seemed to think better of it, and just continued to hold the brunette motionless by the wrists.

Morgana was less motionless than Morgause would have hoped, however, because she wound her legs around the blonde's waist, using them to pull herself closer in, pulling Morgause off-balance and into her in the process.

"_Why_ can't we?" she murmured against the older woman's neck. She slid her left leg up higher, trying to pull Morgause in even tighter, mouthing along the side of her throat. She felt Morgause's breath catch and grinned, using the opportunity to free one of her wrists from the blonde's grip and slide her hand up to cup Morgause's jaw.

"God, I need you so much, Morgause," she whispered and kissed her with a faint moan, rocking her hips slightly against her. "Ever since I first saw you, you're all I can think about. You're in everything I do…I don't think I ever drove Uther half as crazy as I did once you showed up."

Morgause actually smiled at that. Taking it as a cue to continue, Morgana reached up to kiss her again, feeling shivers go up her spine as the blonde woman's hand slipped up and wrapped around her throat.

Rather than what she expected, however, Morgause pushed down gently on Morgana's throat to guide her head back down against the pillow, holding her there, and pulling away softly so she was just out of the younger woman's reach.

"Morgana," she said gently, "I would give anything to be able to continue this, but I…" She paused, looking at Morgana carefully. She took a breath. "Sweetheart, we're sisters. _Half_-sisters," she amended, "But sisters anyway, and I couldn't…I've already involved you in some...less-than-noble activities. I can't do this to you, too."

Morgana stared up at her, motionless, for a long time, shocked.

So.

Sisters, then. As in, related. As in, something that should make Morgana feel profoundly ill.

Any moment now, she was sure to feel the need to vomit.

Any minute now.

Well that was odd. Her gag reflex must be on the fritz, because Morgana found that, much as she tried, she really couldn't seem to feel sick about what Morgause had just said. If anything, and she knew this was awful, but…if anything, it made her want even more of her.

Her long silence must have convinced Morgause that she'd finally gotten through to her because the blonde released her hand from around the younger woman's neck, and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I'm sorry," she said, and got to her feet.

She walked awkwardly to the door, picking up her sword from the floor. "This isn't really how I meant for things to turn out," she said, sort of turning her head, but not quite making eye contact with Morgana. "You're, uhm. You're free to go."

She disappeared into the hallway and Morgana suddenly felt a little empty, like she'd just lost something very important.

VIII

It was about five minutes later that the door to Morgause's study was practically ripped off its hinges as Morgana stormed in, startling the blonde nearly out of her skin.

"No I am bloody well not 'free to go'," the brunette snarled, albeit a bit delayed. "I am still very much without clothing, or haven't you noticed. Would you suggest that I go skipping back to Camelot in the nude? Wrapped in leaves from the forest? What kind of sister are you?"

And without waiting for a reply, Morgana grabbed Morgause around the waist and kissed her, pressing her back and back against the table, shoving the blonde up so she was seated on top of it, legs wrapping around the younger woman as she kissed her and kissed her and kissed her with enough force to bruise.

"I know you like to think you've corrupted me," Morgana growled, pulling at the ties on her sister's breeches, "and that you're this terrible influence on my life, but I've never really been a very good girl to begin with. So if you want me to help you kill Uther Pendragon, I'm yours. If you want me chained by the throat to the foot of your bed, I'm yours. Anything you want, Morgause, I don't know how to make it any clearer, I'm yours, I'm yours, I've always been yours."

Morgause held the younger woman at bay for a moment, hand pushing restrainingly against her chest. She looked at Morgana searchingly. "You're sure?" she asked.

"No, actually, I just said all that to mess with your head and make you feel really horrible about everything," Morgana said, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I'm bloody sure, Morgause…"

The blonde cut her off with a searing kiss, pulling her up onto the table as well and then flipping her over to top her. Morgana yelped in surprise, her face breaking into a smile as Morgause leaned down and nipped at her lower lip, then continued down her throat, hands sliding up to her breasts, pinching her nipples.

Morgana gasped, clawing at the flimsy fabric of Morgause's tunic, trying and failing miserably to just get it _off._

Morgause laughed, straightening up for just a moment to lift the tunic up over her head, tossing it heedlessly to the floor before bending back down and latching her teeth onto Morgana's collarbone, sucking hard and making the younger woman cry out, arching up against her.

The blonde got a leg in between Morgana's thighs and began rubbing slowly against her, the rough fabric of her breeches against Morgana's soft skin making the younger woman crazy.

"More," she murmured breathlessly. "Please Morgause, I need more…"

Morgause smiled and bit at the pulse in Morgana's throat. "What'll you do for it?" she asked.

"That is…_not_ fair," Morgana complained.

"What's not?" She dragged her tongue up the front of the brunette's throat, ending with a nip at her chin.

"You're doing that…thing again…" Morgana said, struggling to focus. "That…thing where you're…where you…you're all…noble and then you…_fuck_…and then you're…evil temptress, and you're…God, that's really good…"

She broke off with a cry, having actually managed to say quite a bit more than she'd expected, not that it had actually ended up as a real sentence or anything.

Morgause laughed darkly, gorgeously, seeming to realize there was really no reasoning with Morgana at all at this point, fun as it would be to make her promise to do anything for her.

"Poor Morgana," she said sweetly. "You've had to be so patient with me, haven't you."

"I broke your fucking…windows…waiting for you…"

"Mm, you've been so good," Morgause praised, working her fingers faster against the younger woman.

"Oh God, there - _there_, Morgause!" the brunette cried, her hips jerking up desperately.

But rather than obeying, Morgause _slowed_ the rhythm of her fingers, pressing as hard as she could, taking complete control as her movements drew sharp gasps from Morgana - gasps which turned into frantic cries, clawing at the muscles of the blonde's back, and finally slowing to exhausted moans she barely had the energy to make.

When the brunette finally lay still, Morgause rolled over onto her back beside her, staring up at the ceiling with satisfaction. To her surprise, Morgana hooked her leg across her waist and snuggled into her, laying her head on the older woman's chest.

"I like your evil temptress side," the brunette mumbled drowsily. "I mean, your noble side's nice too, but this was…this was fun."

"Well. Glad you enjoyed yourself."

"Promise I'll make it up to you later. That really was my original intention, but you kind of stole my thunder there."

Morgause smiled. "I know. I'm sorry. It was hard to resist."

They lay in silence for a moment, Morgana tracing lazy circles across Morgause's skin with her finger.

Then-

"Morgause, what ever _did_ happen to my clothes?" Morgana asked.

A pause. "…I was afraid they were restricting your breathing."

"You thought I was dying so you decided you may as well get a good look at me while you still could."

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've never had anything but noble intentions toward you. Clearly."

Morgana giggled, sort of startling herself with the sound. Morgana did not _giggle._

"No, I really was just trying to make it easier for you to breathe," Morgause said. "But then, you know, you really just look better without them, so I just sort of…kept you that way."

"Well when I'm crowned queen of Camelot, my first decree will be to make _you_ be naked. Always."

"That's a very weird decree. And why is it you think _you'll_ be the one crowned queen?"

"Because I have the wardrobe for it, obviously. Well, I will once I kill Merlin and get my dresses back."

"Merlin has your dresses?"

"I'm at least ninety percent positive that's why he tried to kill me."

"I think that poison went to your brain," Morgause said with a small laugh.

"Doesn't mean it's not true." The brunette shifted her weight so she was pressed more comfortably against Morgause. "I'll make a great queen of Camelot someday."

Morgause smiled, pressing a kiss to Morgana's forehead. "You know, I think you really will," she said


End file.
